


Homebound

by Hikari42, this_kills_the_man



Series: Forces [3]
Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (Video Games), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Collab with a friend, M/M, Sonic Forces Speculation, game comes out tuesday better get this posted before everything is ruined forever, ruby speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 12:36:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12631209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hikari42/pseuds/Hikari42, https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_kills_the_man/pseuds/this_kills_the_man
Summary: Gadget returns home to an apartment that's been pretty much left alone by the war, but everything's different. Infinite is gone, and Gadget can only think about the night he disappeared, a lifetime ago.





	Homebound

**Author's Note:**

> Collab with this kills the man! They came up with the story concept, I wrote it, and they drew the comic.

[originally on askinfiniteofficial](https://askinfiniteofficial.tumblr.com/post/167097233695/homebound-created-by-theashemarie-and)

Gadget stares at his apartment door for a long time. The place is still intact, after everything, just like the rest of the city; somehow, they’ve all made it through unscathed, at least physically. There’s some other stuff to sort through, but right now, more than anything, he wants a long bath, with hot water, and to crawl into his own bed; the touch-starved ache is there too, but it’s not as desperate as everything else, all things considered.

The door swings into a dark, quiet room, and he pads inside, drops his keys on the table, takes everything in—some of the ceiling has fallen off in the bombing shakes, there’s dust covering everything, and the bowl he left there, the bowl with the extra key and the note, is still sitting there, untouched. There’s no power and there won’t be until tomorrow, so he grabs a flashlight from the cupboard. The batteries are still good, and he flicks the light once, twice, holds his hand in front of the beam to cast a small dog shape on the wall, a shadow puppet that reminds him of sometime long ago, when his mind still matched his body, his heart was still holding itself together, when he was little and the world was new.

He’s alone now, for the first time, and he grabs some cereal from the kitchen, stale, chewy, but it’s got calories, sits on the couch in the least dusty spot, and chews slowly, methodically. His phone buzzes as Tails checks on him from the safety of the Workshop (also still intact, amazingly), where he’s probably having dinner with Sonic, Knuckles, and Amy. It’s a nice thought, the four of them finally at ease, at rest. It’s great, he thinks, to know that the heroes are resting; that’s when you know things are safe.

Eventually, he takes a cold shower because no electricity equals no hot water, and he climbs into bed. The bed is cold and lumpy and he sits there, staring at his own hands in the darkness, the edges of his fingers blurred without his glasses. There’s no gentle breathing beside him, no snuffling or sleep mumbling, and he stares at the wall, at the flashlight beam he has pointed in that direction, and that’s what does it.

Finally, _finally_ , he allows himself to sink into his own hands, and weep.

\--

That night, so long ago, when Infinite went missing, was shaping up to be on the best in a while. Infinite had a huge break for a story, Gadget finished his final with flying colors, and they were celebrating: slow music on the radio, socked feet sliding across the floor, chuckles, hands looped around each other’s necks, long stares and hard blushes. Things were looking up; living together for six months and not a single squabble, just deep, understanding silences, a warm home and an even warmer bed.

They moved across their small living room in even smaller circles. The window was open for a late spring breeze. Gadget hummed along with the radio and Infinite looked at him with some thick, intense emotion he didn’t have a name for; he recognized it, but he couldn’t put a word to it, but that didn’t bother him. They were finally together, finally on the same page, finally _happy_.

Then, of course, the Ruby slashed through the sky like a meteor, and, of course, Infinite had to investigate.

\--

There was a moment, as they watched the Ruby fly past their window, so far away but close enough that they could picture where it landed, smell the acrid burning of grass, almost sense the crater under their feet, when Gadget thought it was a good omen—a falling star, on this, the best day in years, when things were beginning their upswing. Infinite stilled under his hands, watching the window, Gadget watching him, thinking insubstantial thoughts of the future, and they breathed in tandem for a few seconds.

It was the last time they did anything together.

Infinite pulled away from him, couldn’t tear his eyes away from the window. “I-I think it crashed... Gadget, it landed.” He didn’t look at Gadget, but Gadget could feel it, his excitement, the erratic energy that kept him moving at all times. “I— I gotta...”

Gadget laughed, placed a gentle hand on Infinite’s cheek to guide his eyes away from the window. “Then go. I’ll be here when you come back.”

Infinite grabbed Gadget’s hand in both of his. “This could be my chance. This could be _the_ report that puts me on the map.”

Gadget knew this and was excited for him. He nodded, unable to reconcile the eagerness he could see on Infinite’s face with his own more peaceful expectation, but he had a feeling this would be good for them. If Infinite finally got the big cover story, things would be perfect.

Infinite looped his scarf around his neck before he left, toed into his boots, placed a small, gentle peck on Gadget’s forehead, and disappeared into the night.

\--

The next morning, when Gadget rolls over, his bedside clock is on, glowing green with the wrong time _three in the morning_ —so the power came back on at some point during the night. The AC is on, he can hear it humming, and that’s a relief; now there’s noise for him to focus on, instead of the cavernous quiet of the apartment, of his mind.

He flips the television on as he pads into the main part of the apartment, but it’s all white noise. The television stations aren’t back up yet and besides, their satellites are sitting in a shrapnel pile somewhere, so he has two options: movie or nothing.

_Chao in Space_ is right where he expects it and he slides the disc into the player, skips to the menu, and hits play mechanically. He doesn’t quite feel like it’s all over, not really, and he half expects something to explode outside. It’s all sunlight and birdsong out there; people are stepping out of their homes, blinking into the sun, shading their eyes against the glare, looking just as lost as Gadget feels. He wants to go out there with them, but everything is screaming at him for a cleaning—plus, he just doesn’t have the strength. After months of living in close quarters, with his every move watched and catalogued, he just wants to be alone for a few hours.

The movie starts as it always does, and it’s nice to be able to anticipate something. He stands, dusts his hands off on his knees, and turns to the kitchen. A quick dust, sweep, and mop will solve a lot of his problems, but then there’s the matter of the fridge—months of fermented milk, some fruit, and who knew what else awaits him behind that hermetically sealed door. He absolutely doesn’t want anything to do with it, but it has to be done. He’s fought in a rebellion, nearly killed his best friend, and nearly died himself a few too many times; he can handle some mold.

Hours later, the fridge has been scrubbed, the movie started over three times, the floors done, and all that’s left is the table, stacked with dishes demanding a wash. He stares at them, exhausted, hungry, sees the bowl with the key and the note, and decides that it’s not worth it after all.

He leaves the door unlocked, just in the case, because there’s nothing he really cares about here, not anymore, and everything that he _does_ care about is worthless to any thief.

\--

The next morning, when Gadget rolled over, his bedside clock blared that it was _nine_ _am_ , _class in ninety minutes, get your ass up_. He groaned, rubbed his eyes, and turned over again, so he could receive the customary baleful glare from Infinite for his alarm clock, but the bed was empty.

It wasn’t exactly unusual for Infinite to not be there. He kept odd hours and was known to get up early some mornings to make breakfast. But, usually, he knew when Gadget would be getting up because he knew Gadget’s schedule better than Gadget himself and he liked to make himself present, said it was because he wanted to be one of the first things Gadget saw when he woke up.

But, this morning, he couldn’t hear Infinite in the kitchen or the bathroom, his half of the bed was cold, the sheets weren’t mussed beyond where Gadget had lain, and he could just tell that nothing had moved since he crawled into bed last night. He rose unsteadily, unsure, and walked toward the kitchen. He couldn’t quite feel his own feet and he had to trail a hand along the wall to keep from falling, but he made it.

Everything was as he left it: dishes in the sink, Infinite’s old scarf hanging on the hook, blankets tossed haphazardly on the couch, a pair of goggles (prescription) hidden amongst the clutter of the coffee table. Their celebratory ice cream was still in the freezer, where it sat all night, pointedly, as Gadget waited for Infinite to come home. When he didn’t show up at half past midnight, Gadget had given up waiting and opted to shower and bed; it must’ve been huge, he reasoned, to keep Infinite out that long.

He went through the motions of breakfast. It was the first time he was making it on his own and it felt weird, to be standing at the stove without Infinite trying to distract him. The eggs turned out rubbery and he ate them quickly, shoveled them into a tortilla to make them mobile, tugged his gloves on, pushed his glasses up, and paused. Did he go to class or did he wait? Did he wait or try to call Infinite? Odds were his phone was silenced if this was a big one, and he couldn’t miss class, not really. He had to take his final.

He shook his head, sent a quick text to Infinite to let him know he missed him, and grabbed his keys. He was probably overreacting. When he got back, Infinite would probably be here, waiting with big news and an even bigger smile.

(Little did he know, in a month, the world would be on fire.)

\--

Gadget returns to the apartment with a bag of buttery pastries clutched tight in his fist. (Even during the apocalypse, his favorite bakery stayed open. What heroes.) He shuffles them over to one hand in order to grab the knob, but then. He stops.

The door is open.

The light is on.

He wasn’t expecting this but he was also welcoming it, considering how he left the door open. Still, the _gall_ of someone walking into his apartment on this, the International Day of Peace, gets to him. His eyes narrow, he sets his pastries next to the door so they’re out of harm’s way, and he kicks the door the rest of the way in.

It occurs to him only after the door has bounced off the wall inside that he doesn’t have a weapon (well, other his fists). All of the wispons are locked up in HQ, where only Tails and Knuckles can get at them, awaiting collection by GUN where they’ll be transported to a secure location that Gadget won’t be privy to. He’s on his own here, for the first time in a long time.

But, that doesn’t stop him for long. He follows the door at a run, with a loud yell, because this is _his_ apartment, damnit! And _his_ apartment doesn’t just get waltzed into! The intruder will meet his fists, both of them, all ten fingers, if they want to steal from him!

He lands one solid hit, just one, right in the robber’s stomach. It doubles them over with a loud _oof_ , a deep _oof_ , an _oof_ that Gadget recognizes.

He steps back. He reevaluates.

Infinite is clutching his stomach and he looks up at Gadget, betrayed. He’s slightly floating, Gadget realizes, but not glowing, and his mask is gone, probably tossed dramatically into the trash or an ocean somewhere, knowing him. There’s a long pause as they stare at one another, Gadget trying to reconcile the sight of Infinite in the living room again, Infinite trying to get over the fact that Gadget just punched him full on in the gut.

“Welcome home,” Infinite grunts as he finally manages to straighten back to full height. Carefully, he lets his feet touch the ground. “Sorry for breaking in. I didn’t have my key.”

Gadget takes a few steps back, for breathing room. “What are you doing here?”

His voice is harder than he meant, but it makes Infinite back up a few steps too—the more room, the better—so maybe it’s for the best.

(He never reappeared back then. Gadget waited for a month, contacted the police, contacted GUN, contacted everyone he could think of, but Infinite _disappeared._ It was like he never existed, and the only proof that he did was the empty space in Gadget’s bed, the extra pairs of shoes in the closet, the shampoo bottles in the shower.

Gadget got little sleep, sat up late into the night, watching the news, listening to the radio, waiting for information. A body, washed up in a river, a lost, confused amnesiac found wandering the forest, a reporter, found snooping in the wrong place. He rehearsed what he would say, if Infinite ever reappeared. _What are you doing here?_ _Where have you been?_ One of those would do, depending on how angry he was at the time. Followed by, _It’s been a month._ )

“I live here,” Infinite answers.

“Do you? It’s been months. You _attacked_ us.”

Infinite avoids his eyes. “I didn’t know what I was doing.”

(Gadget often imagined how this would go. He looked at the door, pictured Infinite standing there, haloed by the light of the hall, soaking wet because it was raining. Arm crossing his body, hand clutching his opposite elbow, head bowed, contrite, but with a smile that was victorious, a hiss of _I did it, Gadge_. _My big break_. And then he would rush in, sweep Gadget up, pull him into a hug, a deep kiss that would make Gadget’s knees quake, all his worries and fear disappear.

Instead, he got a war declaration, a total world takeover, and his best friend’s face right next to Eggman’s.)

“We freed you,” Gadget finds himself saying. He can’t be angry with Infinite, not when he’s still got that gem in his chest, not when he’s floating there, bobbing up and down in worry; he doesn’t even realize he’s floating, and that’s just. It’s so sad. “Why didn’t you come help us?”

Infinite looks up, looks him full in the eyes, declares, “I was avoiding you.”

That hurts more than anything else. It smacks him right in the chest, arcs through him like lightning, makes every hair on his body rise in defense. “ _Without me, you’d still be under his control_.”

(He couldn’t accept it at first. Denial. He joined the resistance, fought his way up the ranks, found himself amongst the upper echelon, went on missions with Tails to find Sonic, saw firsthand what Infinite was capable of. Then, he saw that scarf, heard the voice. And he knew. Acceptance.

He fought his best friend, his most important person, and he won. Infinite fell, even with his time-bending powers, even with the force of the Eggman Empire behind him. Gadget liked to believe it was because Infinite saw him, heard him, and that broke something inside him, kept him from fighting as hard.)

“I know.” Infinite says this so simply, holds his hands open in lackluster defense. “But I was scared. Didn’t you read my note?”

“Huh?” All thought ceases. Gadget is baffled. “What note?”                                                                 

Infinite gestures toward the table, where the dishes are still stacked. “The one in the bowl.”

Gadget moves toward the table even as he answers. “I left that note.”

Infinite floats after him, not too close, but Gadget can still sense him shake his head. “No, I took that note and left you one.”

“When?”                                                                                                           

A shrug from Infinite’s direction. “Sometime during the war, when I broke free of the Ruby for a few hours. It has memories, y’know. Basic sentience. This whole time, it was terrified.”

There’s so much there for Gadget to parse through: the Ruby, memories, note, _sentience_ , Infinite’s conversational tone, as if their relationship is okay, fine, not strained at all. So, he just keeps his mouth shut and plucks the note up from the bowl.

(A last-minute thing. He had to get out of the city; Eggman’s battalion was on the horizon and he had to find the resistance if he had any chance of survival—he was young, scrappy, and had nothing to lose. The resistance would happily take him. But, he couldn’t just leave. There was still hope that Infinite would return, wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere, or spirited away to some alternate dimension by whatever fell out of the sky.

That was the thing about love. You always found time to pause, hope, even with the pressing urge to stay alive bearing down on you.

So, he grabbed a bowl, dropped the extra key in there, Infinite’s key, and scribbled a quick note. _Left to join the Resistance. Meet me if you can. –G._ After a second’s deliberation, he fished the key out, nestled the note in the bottom of the bowl, and placed the key on top, waffled there for a second, staring at it.

Eventually, he was forced to leave by concussive booming.)

This note is different. A small Post-It, yellow and curling up at the edges. Infinite’s scrawling, long cursive. _Terrified of Ruby. Terrified of myself. Can’t control it. I’m sorry. I’ll come back if I get rid of it. –I._

Gadget looks up. There’s something like pain in his chest, but it’s more acute, sharper, like someone is slowly prying his ribs apart in order to get at his heart. His hand tightens, the note crumples, and he drops it.

Infinite doesn’t move as Gadget stomps up to him, though he does brace, preparing for another punch. “I’m sorry, but...” He whispers, and one hand rises to pull his scarf aside, so Gadget can see the Ruby, still there. “I found it, Gadge. My big break.”

Gadget stops, releases his fists, stares at the Ruby. The gem stares at him, and he thinks he sees something in there, a sort of waver. A sort of wink. A sort of brainwave.

“What kind of memories?” he hears himself ask. One of his hands rises and he barely touches the edge of it, this thing that has caused them so much grief. It’s mesmerizing.

Infinite’s voice is hushed, breathless, as he watches Gadget run his finger along the gem’s faceted surface. “Lots of pain, being ripped from its home. Forced to activate. Sonic.”

Gadget looks up. “ _Sonic_?”

“Yeah, the little one.” Infinite holds his hand up at hip height. “He tried to save it, in his own world.”

Gadget lets his hand fall. “You didn’t get rid of it.”

Infinite’s face falls and his gaze wanders away, ashamed. “I can’t. It’s tied to me now.”

(While in the resistance, he forgot the desperation, the fear and shame that Infinite was dead, that he let him wander out without help. But, when Infinite reappeared, that surged up again, threatened to suffocate him. The ache returned, lodged itself in his chest, wormed between his ribs, and he imagined that was what having the Ruby was like. More than anything, he wanted to get rid of that feeling.)

Gadget bites his lip, closes his eyes, pushes a hand through his hair, sighs again. “You could’ve shown up earlier. I had to clean the fridge alone. It was rank.”

The look Infinite gives him is like dawn, like a bright yellow sun breaking the horizon in the morning. He smiles for the first time in a long time. “Sorry. I sat outside for a while. I was terrified.”

Gadget rolls his eyes. “Of course you did.”

“Guess I’ll have to make it up to you.” Infinite reaches for him, holds his arms out.

Things won’t be easy. They have a lot of stuff to sort through, a lot of late nights, hard sleeps, loud nightmares, and panic attacks ahead of them, but for now, just now, things are finally, finally perfect.

Infinite finally gives him the hug he’s waited months for. And then? And then the knee-shattering kiss that he’s been aching for.


End file.
